Halapatov, Abigail is 14, Sophie is 16

Riowyn has gone to bed, and I guess Abi and I are going to try to sleep ourselves. I curl up near the wall under my red blanket, trying not to think about the day’s events.

Abigail and I say goodnight to each other and then she says, "I'm sure we'll be able to work out the source of this soon. Hopefully the ghosts can be stopped."

I feel that same feeling pressing in on me as when we faced the ghosts. I don’t respond to her. I don’t even know what I could say.

The ghosts said outright that they were here because of me. My machine, the teleport watch, had drawn them to Halapatov in some way. When we’d first arrived I’d noticed some interference but I’d brushed it off, assuming that it was a minor glitch.

I can't believe how stupid and careless I’ve been. The teleport watch has been so useful, and worked for me so well that I forget it's still an experimental device and we don’t know exactly how it works even now, after all these years of testing it. I mean, it’s had its bugs but I never would've guessed it had the power to do something like this. The ghosts. I feel so horrible. I feel like running and running and hiding and pretending none of this ever happened. I have no idea how to fix this. This is so far beyond anything I've ever dealt with before. Other dimensions, all the deaths; I can feel myself starting to shake, and I curl in on myself.

It all spins in on me as I lie there, shaking and trying not to give into the urge to cry. I am so completely tired but I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to think about the dreams I’ve been having here on Halapatov. I would do anything never to dream of Aldred again. But then even that thought makes me feel horrible; he deserves to be remembered, he deserves everything. I clutch at my head. I miss him so much. I breathe in and out in and out in quiet short huffs for as long as I can bear to hold him in my mind. And then I push him away again, roll over, clutch myself and shake and shake and shake.

I am jolted by a soft noise from Abigail’s direction. Against my will I look at her, dreading her seeing me like this, but oh god thank god she’s not awake. In the dark all I can see is the outline of her breathing slowly in and out, a peaceful and elegant rise and fall.

In spite of how I feel I smile to myself, and then I think I'm going to start sobbing. She is so perfect when she sleeps, and though it's normally nice to stay awake and listen to her slowly breathing in and out in the dark when I'm having trouble sleeping, right now it makes me feel awful.

I feel like a complete stupid idiot. All of this is my fault. If I hadn't brought the teleport watch here, if I'd just focussed on my research, none of this would've happened. Or at least, not the way it has. People have died quicker because I brought an experimental device here because I was completely blinded by love for Abigail. Is love the right word? It feels right. All I know is that ever since I've met Abigail all I've wanted is to be around her and make her happy. We fought together on the Eridanus II and I watched her struggle and suffer and in the weeks after that any time she expressed sadness over anything I did anything in my power to fix it.

Which means I brought us here. To Halapatov.

My attempts to make Abi's life slightly better have made the whole world infinitely worse. I sigh and drag my hands down my face, feeling completely hopeless.

Tomorrow we will go to the astronomy centre, I remind myself, and we can map all of the teleport watches abnormalities and use that, maybe, hopefully, please, please, please, to... what? What even can we do? Find where the signals are strongest? Go there? Hope that once we're there we can somehow defeat every ghost on the planet? Why did I think tracking the signals could be any help? We barely survived an encounter with a few of them. I shudder, thinking of how I completely shut down when we were with them. It was so horrible. I was completely trapped in my own head when they were around. Ugh. I'm so useless. Just, disgusted with myself. I have no way to explain my own weakness to the others. Riowyn and Abigail seem so confident, so hopeful, that the three of us can make a difference in this nightmare. I wish I could share that with them. I think and think. I look at Abigail again. Something solidifies in me. If my wish coming to Halapatov was to help Abigail, then I need to shove down my own feelings of hopelessness and do everything I can to assist her and Riowyn, no matter what happens. I just hope and pray that I don't lose myself to my own weakness once more, but I know I will have little choice in that.

Eventually, I feel like I'm going to suffocate lying there on the floor, and I drag myself upright, quietly put my blanket away, tear my eyes away from Abigail, and go and sit by Riowyn's window. Outside the world is hazy and the streetlamps are making only the barest glimmer against the dark. I lean my forehead against the glass, close my eyes, and refuse to give in to how scared I am, knowing that before too long the world will wake up and the nightmares I've been avoiding in sleep will become impossible for me to run from in reality.

Flauraan, Abigail is 15

If I thought my life changed after the Weraynian Scare, it was nothing in comparison to the aftermath of what happened on Halapatov. I feel people’s eyes on me whenever I am in town. I catch a glimpse of the coverage of the… incident… on the datashare one day and choke down tears, realise what a foolish young person I seem getting involved in a mystery on another planet that ended so tragically.

Some days I feel like I am walking around with this horrible secret inside of me, and I am terrified of being found out. Everyone knows what happened on Halapatov, but I haven’t told anyone what happened with me and Sophie. I made excuses with my parents and they believed me, and even though they occasionally mention her in passing conversation they haven’t questioned why she left without saying goodbye to them. In her defence, she is quite an eccentric person, and exhibits many unexplained behaviours. Exhibited? It’s not worth thinking about. And of course any measurable downturn in my own mood and demeanour can be easily explained away by the simple fact of what I experienced on Halapatov. Not that I am unaffected by that either, but it’s more than that. I am bereft. I am afraid. I have had the most important people in the universe rip themselves away from me. What if I never see her again? What if I am forced to spend my whole life without her, not knowing whether she is staying away by choice or if something far more horrible has happened? What then? I see the years stretching ahead of me, eclipsing the impending Weraynian War. Every day of my life I feel doom hanging over me, and I genuinely have no idea how I am going to escape from under its shadow.

I have little choice but to go about my life as normally as possible, as if nothing is missing, as if I have experienced at best a minor setback. I have had too many weeks off at the Learning Centre and have plenty of catchup work to keep me busy. I reunite with my recently rewon friends and find ways to talk about the trip to Halapatov when they ask about it even though I’d rather claw my own heart out. Sierra looks at me so sweetly when she says it will be weird not having Sophie around, and I deftly change the subject when Jason starts to speculate at the adventures she might be having now. Venom eats at me. I find myself gravitating towards Jayne, and joining the silent study sessions she spends late at the Learning Centre, under the guise of my makeup work. There is no small talk in that environment. I attempt to find the appropriate level of distraction that also allows little conversation. I help my parents in the fields and the market an appropriate amount that raises no questions. At night I go into my room and I am alone and I stare at the ceiling as thoughts and images swirl in my mind until my mind gives up out of sheer exhaustion. I force myself to eat and move and achieve an automatic state of existence.

I find myself back in training with Reeina, against every instinct in my body. Before Halapatov, I freaked out here using my powers, responding emotionally to experiences that feel like nothing now. What would happen if I tried to use my powers in my current state? But refusing to return to training wasn’t an option, wasn’t part of the plan. I can’t deal with any questions, I will not, especially from Reeina. I need to put up my strongest front. So I would have to use my powers without panicking.

Before, I had mostly positive experiences with my powers, yet one unlocked memory from my childhood was enough to put me in a frenzy, cause me to lose control when practicing. Now when I think of using my powers my entire body tenses with memories, with the most recent uses of them. Reeina places an object in front of me, a small trinket. I reach out my hand, reach out with my mind. As I watch my outstretched hand I see another hand, summoning staar matter into a ball. I blink lazily, and watch the trinket rise, totally relaxed. As the vibrations of the air ripple through me I hear distant screaming, mind filling with the light of the ghost dimension. My mind clenches but my body remains untensed. Reeina praises my improvement. We move on to other objects, practicing isolating one out of a group, making them all rise at once. I am clutching the pale arm of a corpse as industrial lights blind me; I pull particles towards me in a desperate attempt to protect the others with me; lights dance across my vision; I feel the discharge of my powers as Sophie pushes me away and the electricity of the teleport watch displaces her forever.

I complete every exercise Reeina presents me with to an excellent standard, and remain unmoved by my emotions. I accept that I will feel like this unceasingly.

I am almost out the door when Reeina’s reticent tone pulls me up short. “Abigail,” I turn, force myself to look at her, appear unfazed. Reeina is uncharacteristically hesitant; usually she maintains a stateliness and clarity that is able to cut through directly to most people. “I understand you have been through multiple ordeals in an improbably short time and sense that you are not in the state of mind to discuss these things in detail as of yet, but it would be remiss of me not to offer a listening ear as your mentor if you require debriefing of any sort."

I smile, and am thrilled at the false sincerity I instill in it. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m recovering well, all things considered. It was unlucky to run into trouble on Halapatov so soon after the Weraynian Scare, but I’m pretty resilient.” I incline my chin ever so slightly, almost believe my own words. “And like you noted, my powers have improved so much since my trip. None of my previous instability.”

My smile threatens to fade as Reeina continues to hesitate, eyes boring into me in the way that only someone with Reeina’s powers can achieve. Do people feel like this when I look at them? “Abigail, I do not want to be unkind, but I know you better than most, and I’ve had the privilege of looking at the files from your encounter on Halapatov. The girl who died, I am certain this wasn’t just a random death you witnessed but that of someone you’d grown attached to. Resilience is an important skill, but it must be moderated with proper processing of emotion.”

Now panic is rising within me. It’s okay, Abigail, you’ve survived so many conversations like this. Just one more and then you can go home, and next time you have training, Reeina won’t ask anything else about it. Come on, you’ve shown so much resolve, don’t let it fail now. I have shown an astounding amount of resolve thus far, but I’ve failed to factor in the extent to which my abilities siphon energy and focus from me. I’ve managed to channel my powers in training without a freakout, but I’m now realising too late that I have left myself exposed to utter emotional volatility.

I’m not giving in just yet, but I don’t know how to keep talking without the facade breaking. I need to get out of here. What’s an appropriate level of distress I can show to convince Reeina I am processing my emotions at all healthily? Her words are swirling in my mind. The girl who died… someone you’d grown attached to… No I can’t think about this now, no! “I-” It’s like she’s a lump in my throat, that I could speak her into being and she would appear safe and whole in front of me, but no matter how hard I try I can’t make myself do it. I failed her, I failed her. Sophie’s face on the hill is burned into my brain. I lost her too. The only person who understands.

Everything crumbles before me and Reeina’s hand is on my shoulder and I don’t even remember how I ended up on the floor and I can’t believe I let myself be so weak and I am wrapped in her arms and I am lying on cold marble and I am clutching a mug and the warmth is doing nothing to permeate the numbness I feel and before I have regained my sanity I have told Reeina everything and she is staring at me at a loss and I think that maybe I am broken beyond repair if even she can’t reach into this mess and make it any better.

“It won’t feel like this forever.” Is the only thing she manages to say that rouses anything in me. I think of the bite of Sophie’s words as I tried to find the right words to get through to her, the rejection of any logic or hope of recovery. Does it help anything for me to follow her example?

I nod mutely at Reeina, and as I make my way home not long after I feel maybe 1% better. It won’t feel like this forever, I tell myself, and I almost believe it.

Day 3 of the Wedding

I’m already feeling overwhelmed with all these guests at the wedding, all these aliens, Sophie’s coworkers, people I barely know, when I see some guests arriving that makes everything in me stop. We talked about this, Sophie and I talked about having a place in our wedding for the people we’ve lost, and I agreed with her that it was important and necessary and it wouldn’t be right without them. But I didn’t realise how unprepared I was to see Riowyn’s family again after all of these years.

“Abigail, my dear!” Riowyn’s father greets me, courteous as I remember. I return his greeting, and greet the rest of Riowyn’s family who have made this tremendous journey to go to the wedding of people they barely know - but who were the last to see their daughter and cousin alive - and try to keep my composure as best as I can.

We make impressive small talk; where is Sophie? I’m horrified to be facing this on my own, but maybe her being here wouldn’t help.

“Oh yes, I have brought a token for the wedding - Sophie mentioned that you had a place for memorabilia?” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small book. I stare at it uncomprehendingly. He continues patiently. “This is Riowyn’s diary, and it contains the last words she ever wrote prior to her demise.” Horror thuds through me, but I nod and reach out for the proffered item. “It has brought me a lot of solace over the years, I hope it will keep her memory alive for you both, as you asked.” I clutch the book in my hand, feeling terrified.

“We miss her terribly.” I say softly, and he pats me on the shoulder.

“I know, my dear, as do I.” He hesitates. “Perhaps you should read the last entry before Sophie does; I know she struggled terribly at the funeral and I hope Riowyn's memory will be a comfort rather than an added burden."

I nod again, and then find my voice. "Thank you again, for coming to the wedding, and for bringing something for her."

He returns the thanks effusively, pats me on the shoulder again, and move off to find Sophie. I should probably have tried to help but instead I stand there with Riowyn's diary, Riowyn's diary, and though I'd rather bury the memories I know I have to read it. I owe her and Sophie that much. I make my way towards the area we've established for our dead loved ones, and I open the diary, delicately, fearing to damage the precious artefact, and begin to read. The final entry assaults me and I tremble even at the opening words, written clearly and elegantly in faded purple ink.

I feel like my life is about to change. I’ve met these two young girls, aliens. One of them is a proper alien from lightyears away, and the other is from Flauraan. They were involved in the Weraynian Scare last month, do you remember that? I hope there haven’t been more by the time you reread this. Their names are Abigail and Sophie and they are just the most astounding people. They are so young, still teenagers, but intelligent, thoughtful and brave. Well they’d have to be, given what they’ve been through. Sophie is so interesting, she travels the galaxies with a teleporter and does research for her planet. Abigail, too, is so deeply fascinating. She has powers that function similarly to Halapatovians. I’ve never heard of that in a Paladanian, but anything’s possible, right? She’s so insightful too. I am so lucky to have met such wonderful young women. I’ve known them only a couple of days but I feel so protective of them.

I know you probably remember this, but I am writing now instead of sleeping because I am almost sick with anticipation for tomorrow. Abigail and Sophie are staying in the other room, and I hope they have better luck with sleeping. After so many years investigating, I finally feel close to some answers. Sophie’s teleport appears to operate in the same dimension as the ghosts do. The poor thing is taking all of this very hard and blaming herself for the deaths that have happened since she’s brought it here, but Abigail and I are trying to reassure her that it’s giving us crucial evidence that should help us prevent more deaths. Once this is all over, I hope she feels better.

I suppose I should try to sleep. We have so much work to do. I have so many theories, and I'm so glad to have those girls with me to help get to the heart of this. It feels like we have a real tangible chance to fix things, to stop vulnerable people being preyed on, killed and converted. For a minute tonight, facing those ghosts, I thought I was about to come face to face with someone I recognised from all the cases I've been studying, and know that they were okay, and happy. Well, the ghosts claim to be happy but there was nothing recognisable in them. We need to stop them. I hope we can stop them. The sooner I sleep the sooner I will know. Goodnight Riowyn, I will write again soon, with good news I hope.

My hands tremble as I finish reading the entry, having been paralysed and unable to look away, to deny myself this agonising reminder of my dead friend. It’s been ten years but it’s as if I can hear her voice low beside me.

With this reminder of Riowyn so real and visceral I am forced to consider something I have never allowed myself to think about. My mind unwillingly constructs the scenario in which Riowyn survived, in which we found another way to defeat the ghosts on Halapatov, where Sophie and I weren't drawn in by them and Riowyn never had to give her life to bring us back.

Where we go through police questioning together, are eventually released shaken but whole in a way none of us ever were otherwise. Where we return to Riowyn’s apartment, filling the space that had once felt so empty as we celebrated our victory and our friendship. Talked about next steps, helped Riowyn tie up loose ends, and perhaps, free of burdens and responsibilities in the Staarus system, go travelling the three of us, a shining trio across the universe applying my insight and Riowyn's research skills to Sophie's mission. Maybe we help her conclude things faster. Maybe not. Regardless the adventures we could have together would be endless.

Of course I've never wanted to think about this for the simple fact that Riowyn is gone and imagining a life for her can never change that, but also because I can't ignore the fact that my own life and everything that has happened to me since completely shifts around the reality in which Riowyn lived.

Up to that point in our lives Sophie and I had spent every moment since we met attacking everything as a team, supporting each other, a whirlwind of joy and passion, distracting each other from the difficulties of our futures - her search for her father, the impending Weraynian war, it all shrunk in comparison to the bond we shared. The moment I lost Riowyn I lost her too. It all disappeared in an instant and she withdrew, even before she physically left my side. With what she'd experienced with her family, and most impactfully with Aldred, I can't blame her for that. But I can't deny that in that reality where Riowyn lives, that place that is not real and surely could never have been, Sophie and I were poised to travel the universe together, with or without Riowyn. We would have been unstoppable.

In the midst of these thoughts I am visited by the vision of an Abigail that does not and cannot exist, growing stronger in my mind, young and carefree, holding Sophie's hand and smiling almost imperceptibly smugly at me, mocking me, my brokenness, the twisted path I've been forced to take to recapture any semblance of a future with Sophie.

Suddenly this alternate path, this alternate Abigail, is so clear to me I reel as if physically attacked.

Every particle in the air around me rushes out with the same force as when I was a child and my powers manifested, and the same as when we fought the ghosts on Halapatov, and the same as trying to defend Sophie on Werayne, but this time there is no enemy besides the turmoil of my own mind.